


Dandelion, Stop

by LemonPetitFour



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, witcher sign injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 23:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonPetitFour/pseuds/LemonPetitFour
Summary: Geralt had been battling it out with a specter, casting Yrden over and over to trap and kill it. Post fight, Dandelion comes forward only to step right into one of the traps.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 88





	Dandelion, Stop

**Author's Note:**

> Prefacing this fic to let you know my characterization of both Geralt and Dandelion comes from a mixture of all three games and the show. I pick and choose bits and pieces of the characters personalities that I like.

He had been throwing around _Yrden_ signs, admittedly, haphazardly. Noonwraiths were just so obnoxious, a menace, and frustrating to fight. The more _Yrden_ signs he threw down then the more likely he was to finally catch the specter in the trap and be able to cut into it, right?

Apparently not. The spirit wound around each sign glowing on the ground, lashing out at Geralt and sapping his strength. He was getting tired. If a noonwraith was what cut him down that would be an embarrassment on all of his witcher training. And he knew Dandelion was watching back in a set of bushes with Roach close by.

If that bard wrote a song about his death Geralt would haunt him until the end of his days.

Oh shit, the noonwraith _finally_ slipped into one of the purple rings along the floor. Geralt moved in, swinging his blade in quick, tight arcs. The creature howled, went down fast now that _Yrden_ made it tangible. Geralt flinched as the specter burst in a show of light, leaving valuable dust along the ground. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead from the dance with the noonwraith.

He could collect some of the dust, head back to town with it as proof, get his coin and be on his way. He shuffled through his pockets, pulling out a small leather pouch to scoop the dust into. He started grabbing piles of it, funneling it in as best he could. He could still feel the pull on his witcher magic, the _Yrden_ signs losing power but still on the ground.

He heard shuffling to his side, glancing up to see Dandelion peaking out from his hiding spot. Geralt turned back down, continuing his scooping.

“Geralt, what a fight! What a waltz! You were magnificent, my dear witcher!” The bard yammered, Geralt huffing at the praise, “Why, to think you complain of your swordplay not being perfect, but the way you cut into that creature, spectacular!” The bard kept talking, moving closer to Geralt.

Geralt paused, feeling a tug on his magic, weak but noticeable. Oh no.

“Dandelion sto-“ Geralt tried, too late as _Yrden_ glowed, Dandelin stepping into the trap. Geralt saw the spike rise from the ground, embedding itself through Dandelion’s foot.

The bard cried out, trying to move away when the spike hooked itself, keeping him trapped.

“Don’t move.” Geralt said suddenly, wide eyes betraying the calm monotone of his voice.

“G-Geralt.” Dandelion said shakily, blood seeping onto the ground.

“I know, don’t move. It will fade soon.” Geralt said. Dandelion’s lip quivered. He was sure it hurt, more than it looked. _Yrden_ was probably sapping his energy, Geralt would have been able to tell if he had gotten injured in the fight, but he was fine so he felt no gain in his own vitality to double check his theory.

“Agh, Geralt.” Dandelion closed an eye, wincing. He held out a hand, waving it around for a moment before Geralt understood. He stepped forward, carefully grabbing the hand. Dandelion made a sound, a whimper maybe. Geralt rubbed his thumb over the bard’s knuckles, trying to help. Dandelion squeezed back, grip shaky.

They stood, waiting for the sign to let up as Dandelion breathed heavily through the pain.

Geralt saw the tell-tale sign of Dandelion’s knees buckling, reaching out with his other arm to hold the bard up. Dandelion made a weak sound. _Yrden_ was definitely sapping his energy.

The sign finally let up after a few minutes too many, the spike disappearing back into the ground and Dandelion sagging in Geralt’s grip with a groan. Geralt gathered the bard in his arms, feeling a bit panicked at the limpness of his limbs.

He whistled for Roach, the mare trotting over, nuzzling at Dandelion with a whinny. He slung the bard over her back, Dandelion struggling greatly to right himself. Geralt hopped up as well to set off to their camp, urgency in his core.

Realistically, Dandelion would be perfectly fine. His foot would heal, the spike only capable of holding down and not seriously injuring except a shallow puncture. And he would surely regain his strength with some rest. That didn’t stop the witcher from fretting over the bard’s safety though. With him following the witcher, he was Geralt’s responsibility to protect.

And he didn’t always do a spectacular job at that…

Roach led them to camp with a quick trot, the site not far.

He slung himself off of Roach once they came upon their spot, gently pulling Dandelion with him. The bard made a sound, brow furrowed. Geralt shushed him, treating him how he did Roach when she spooked. He brought the bard next to their unlit fire, casting a quick _Igni_ to reawaken the flame.

Dandelion was sweating, a sheen on his face and what was visible of his chest. Geralt moved to pull off Dandelion’s boot, the bard not flinching at the touch, probably too drained to react properly. His foot was bloody, but Geralt checked the leftover wound and was relieved to see that it wasn’t deep.

“I’m alright, aren’t I.” Dandelion said, voice strained. Geralt looked at him for a moment, humming with a nod.

“Could… could tell by your face,” Dandelion gestured tiredly to his own face, “Mouth relaxed. Not frowning anymore.” Geralt ran water over the wound, wiping away blood so he could see it properly. He hadn’t realized that Dandelion could read him well. Even Geralt couldn’t read his own emotions sometimes.

He cleaned the wound as best he could, wrapping it with the bandages he kept now that he had an injury prone bard to watch.

“Need rest?” Dandelion asked, talking about himself. Geralt nodded again, tying off the binds. Dandelion laid back, resting on the hard ground. Geralt huffed, grabbing the bard and lifting him to lay on a bedroll instead. Dandelion murmured something that vaguely sounded like a thanks. Geralt listened to his breathing slow, then his heart, relaxing.

Geralt got up, tending to Roach. He got her settled, laid out some food for her. Surely she was clever enough to go over to the nearby stream were she to get thirsty. Geralt made sure to fish out a sugar cube for her as a thanks for carrying both him and the bard. Dandelion had made him stock up on the treats, saying the mare deserved them.

Geralt extinguished their fire, settling down to meditate for the night.

-

Morning came fast, Dandelion still fast asleep. Geralt got up, gathering their supplies to continue traveling. Their goal was Vizima. Geralt wanted to visit Shani and trade with the local merchants. They always had the best books to look through.

He got Roach set up, all his belongings packed. He went to wake Dandelion, shaking the bard. He stirred, groaning and throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the rising sun. Geralt sighed, shaking him again.

“We’re leaving. Get up or I leave you behind.” He said. Dandelion grumbled.

“You would never. If you showed up without me Shani would be furious. I’m her favorite drinking buddy.” Dandelion said, moving to sit up. He got to his feet, brushing himself off. The bard winced as he took a step forward, putting pressure on his injured foot.

Geralt whistled, calling Roach over. He grabbed her reins, holding her still.

“Get on,” He said. Dandelion looked at him, brow raised, “I won’t have you walk on a healing injury. Up.” He said, going to grab Dandelion and hoist him up. Dandelion batted the hands away, helping himself onto the mare.

He pet at Roach’s neck, a smile pulling at his face as he settled into the saddle. Geralt made sure he was on comfortably, feet in the stirrups, and began his walk. He led Roach by the reins, listening to his boots grind into the dirt and rocks. The bard hummed and sang snippets of songs, keeping the air around the two jovial and animated.

Geralt smiled to himself, enjoying the warm air and good company. The trip to Vizima would be an easy rest of the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
